


Shadows Inked in Black

by Voldecourt



Series: Nara!Sai [1]
Category: Dreaming of Sunshine - Silver Queen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Clan Politics, F/M, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Gen, My Headcanon For Sai's Origins, Nara Ikoma is a character canon to DoS but not Naruto, Postpartum Depression, Shimura Danzou Being an Asshole, Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine Universe, Unhappy Ending, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22593907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voldecourt/pseuds/Voldecourt
Summary: When Ikoma Nara met Kanatoko Kurama and fell in love, neither knew they were setting a tragedy in motion. But Danzou knew a good opportunity when he saw it.
Relationships: Nara Ikoma/Original Character, Original Character/Original Character
Series: Nara!Sai [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625665
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80
Collections: Heliocentrism — a Dreaming of Sunshine recursive collection





	1. Part I-Ikoma

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted on the ffnet We're all Just Dreaming of Sunshine forum ages ago, and now I've finally cleaned it up a little and am posting it here! Enjoy! 
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful beta wafflelate, who's been a good sport about listening to me ramble about this for a very long time. It wouldn't be anywhere near as good without her <3.

“So,” Shikaku stated, putting down a white stone “How is the clan?” 

They were midway through a game of Go now, and neither of them had talked much aside from the initial greetings. The Go parlor Shikaku had suggested they meet at was in an out of the way civilian neighborhood, empty enough to give them privacy, but crowded enough that they wouldn’t draw any attention with their conversation. It was a perfect place to talk with his brother without any nosy shinobi, or worse, clan members, eavesdropping.

Ikoma glanced up from the board to look at his brother. It was strange to see him in clothes befreit of the clan symbol. Stranger still to see him look so healthy. His face wasn't as gaunt and the bags under his eyes not quite as dark as they had been during the month long cold war between him and their father. Obviously living with Yoshino and her fantastic cooking was doing wonders for his brother’s well being. 

After studying his brother for a few more seconds, he answered, “They’re still upset, if that’s what you’re wondering. But you’ll probably be welcome on clan grounds in another month or so.” 

Shikaku snorted. “If I show up in a month Dad would probably find a way to disown me all over again, if he didn’t first make me walk into the forest to never return.”

Ikoma placed down his own stone as he thought that over “...I’ll let you know when he’s on a mission.” 

His brother studied the board without replying, so Ikoma continued “The clan is doing well, though. We almost didn’t have enough of the nerve stimulant to send to the hospital this week, but we pulled through at the last minute. Other than that it’s been business as usual.” 

Shikaku nodded. “And how about you? I know these past few weeks must have been hard on you, considering…” 

Considering the clan heirship just got dumped on you with no warning, Shikaku meant. Considering you were never meant to have this job. Considering there’s a war you’re fighting and now you’re expected to do your incredibly important job on top of memorizing a million asinine clan rules Dad never fully taught you because he never really considered you for heirship. 

Ikoma shrugged. “I’m fine. A bit busy with missions on top of everything else, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Dad did teach me some things growing up in case you died, you know. You don’t have to worry.” 

It wasn’t the most honest thing he’d ever said, but Shikaku didn’t need to hear about his stress levels. It would only make him feel guiltier. Not that Shikaku should feel guilty. Ikoma understood his position more than Shikaku even realized. 

“If I was worried about how you’ll do as clan head I wouldn’t have stepped down. I know you’ll do fine. But I’m sure you’re not having much fun right now. I am sorry about that.” 

“No you’re not,” Ikoma deflected as he placed a stone, continuing his atari, “You’re just thrilled you’re not the one with all the work for a change. But it’s fine. I understand why you chose to do it.” 

The two brothers fell into a comfortable silence as they approached the end game, each of them focusing on the board and their moves. It wasn’t until Ikoma was bemoaning the awful shape of his left corner that Shikaku decided to speak again. “Dad’s not making you marry Junshi in my place, is he?” 

Ikoma coughed abruptly, “What!? No! Dad’s not— I mean maybe if I didn’t— but that’s not the case, because there’s… I mean…”

Ikoma took a deep breath to steady himself, glancing out the window to collect his thoughts. Telling Shikaku about Kanatoko was the entire reason he’d arranged to meet up. If he couldn’t tell his brother without becoming a mess, how was he going to handle the rest of the clan? Determinedly, he met his brother’s amused stare. “I have a girlfriend. I want to ask her to marry me. But I don’t know how happy Dad or the elders will be with me.” 

“Really? You managed to look away from your books for more than a minute to see a girl?” his brother teased, “I thought that may have been why you’d been leaving the house so often, but I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“Oh shut up Shikaku! From what Inochi was telling me Yoshino had to hit you over the head with a boulder to get your attention.”

“It really wasn’t as funny as Inochi thinks it was.” Shikaku grumbled, before becoming serious. “But you won’t have to worry about Dad. You’re the only viable heir he has right now, and unless you’re marrying a Kumo nin the clan’s just going to have to accept whoever you choose. It’s not like _you_ have a betrothal to break and get disowned over.”

Ikoma nodded. He knew this, intellectually. He knew his father would even approve of Kanatoko in theory. She was from a minor clan, sure, but the clan was known for being formidable and she herself was a tokubetsu jōnin. On paper there was no reason for the elders to be upset about her. 

Except for the small fact that she was already two months pregnant with his child, that is.

* * *

Ikoma had met Kanatoko Kurama the way many shinobi met; on a mission, where they had been put on the same team for a two week long live-capture of a pair of runaway merchants who had been revealed as spies. The mission itself had been hellish, including a two day long trek through a swamp, a sudden torrential downpour while they were sleeping, a group of Kumo nin forcing them to lose their lead, and a run in with a drunken traveling circus he had since blocked from his memory. 

Though it was easily the most miserable mission he’d ever been on, the company had been excellent. The couple their team had been tasked to capture had split up, and so too had their team, leaving Ikoma alone with a Kurama he’d never worked with before. 

The first few days went by quietly. Kanatoko was efficient, curt, and near silent as they tracked their quarry, which suited Ikoma just fine. He was terrible at small talk, or jokes, or anything social, really.

It wasn’t until they were bedding down for a few hours rest when Ikoma found himself breaking the amicable silence between the pair, “Is that Oda Sakaguchi’s new book?” He asked, gesturing towards the novel Kanatoko had retrieved from her bag, “I haven’t been able to read it yet, is it as good as his last one?” 

Kanatoko didn’t glance away from the book as she replied, “So far I’m liking it. The main character isn’t as funny as Ryou was, but he’s not as frustrating, either. The ninja fight scenes are terrible, though.”

Ikoma snorted. “Aren’t they always? The only author who’s ever written a halfway believable fight scene is _Jiraiya_. And doesn’t that just say something about the deplorable state of good ninja literature.”

She looked up then, eyeing him interestedly, “You read a lot, then? What genres?” 

Ikoma perked up. Talking about books was perhaps the one thing he felt confident about, “Oh, I’ll read pretty much everything from the classics to contemporary. I love historical dramas like Sakaguchi’s work, but my favorite books tend to be the more psychological and introspective works.” 

Kanatoko shut her book, “I love those kinds as well! They take up at least eighty percent of my collection. Do you have a favorite?” 

“It’s hard to pick, but I read _No Longer Gold_ a few years ago and the carefulness of the prose and how masterfully the author wove in the themes of loss and redemption made me fall in love immediately.” 

The interest in Kanatoko’s eyes dimmed, “Oh.” 

Ikoma blinked, “What’s that mean?” 

“It’s just,” she rolled her eyes, face more expressive than it had been all day, “that book is boring, depressing, and dripping with so much pretentiousness that I think the author spent the entire time writing it with his head up his ass.”

He met her stare, indignant, but always thrilled to debate books, though there were tragically few people with which to do it with, “Most of the more introspective books out there follow similar themes, and _No Longer Gold_ does it best. What’s your favorite then, if you don’t like something so archetypical of the genre?”

“I don’t mind the themes, I just don’t like the way that book handled them. My favorite has to be _A Private Affair_. It doesn’t wallow in self pity and go nowhere, but has an unflinching look into the consequences of putting one’s selfish dreams over the lives of others. That, plus the artistry of how the plot threads tie together, it’s outstanding.” 

Oh, good, a book he could talk about. “It’s predictable, rushed, and has a main character so unlikeable I wanted to jump into the book and kill him myself. If you think that nonsense is somehow better than the masterpiece that is _No Longer Gold_ then something is wrong with your literary analysis.”

“Oh, I’ll show you literary analysis you overblown book snob. The entire point of _A Private Affair_ is that Tori is _supposed_ to be unlikeable, and if you missed that then you missed the entire point of the novel.” 

Despite her harsh words there was a glint in her eye, one that had told Ikoma she was enjoying this discussion just as much as he was. 

He responded in kind, “Making me hate a book on purpose doesn’t make the author any less of a hack.” 

“A _hack?!?_ If you want to talk about a hack how about we talk about the way _your_ preferred author spends over 100 pages trying to make the reader feel as sad as possible, and then absolutely nothing else happens.” 

“That’s not what happens at all!” Kanatoko stoked the fire, which was beginning to dim and sighed, “It figures that the first person I’ve met who’s read Sakaguchi has otherwise terrible taste. Next you’ll tell me you also liked _The Eagle of the Tree.”_

Ikoma sputtered indignantly, _“_ How could you even compare those two books? _The Eagle of the Tree_ is a rushed, cliche ridden nightmare that ruined a perfectly good premise by making the characters idiots. No one in their right mind would like that drivel.” 

“And yet it’s made its way onto multiple best-seller lists,” Kanatoko pointed out bitterly, “because apparently, no one is in their right mind, and thinks an author killing off the most interesting character in the second act before their character arc has resolved is interesting, rather than frustrating.” 

Ikoma groaned, “I was so upset when that happened! Haru was the only reason I’d made it that far in the book to begin with. I almost stopped reading, afterwards.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have missed much,” Kanatoko said as Ikoma shifted himself closer to the fire, “Why didn’t you?” 

“Morbid curiosity.” 

She laughed. Ikoma grinned, and together they tore the novel to shreds until it was time to sleep. 

Their spirited discussion lasted for the rest of the mission, filling their downtimes with debate, analysis, and laughter as they discussed other novels. Despite Kanatoko’s flawed understanding of _No Longer Gold_ and the brilliance of it’s lengthy prose as it pertained to being a metaphor for the suffering of mankind, they found that they did have many other shared favorite, and un-favorite novels in common. 

Their discussion wasn’t just about books either. Being a Kurama, Kanatoko also had many opinions on art. “I just don’t see the appeal of suibokuga,” she’d told him eight days into the mission, while crouched near a river, cleaning the sake and paint out of her hair as best as she could with a trick water jutsu, “Just using black ink for your work is so boring, and it limits you. Give me colorful stuff over dry ink any day, you can express so much more.”

“Sometimes the limitation leads to stronger emotional responses,” Ikoma pointed out while futilely trying to clean his own vest and face, “In suibokuga the artist has to capture the whole spirit of the subject using as minimum lines and shapes as possible. It’s an expressionistic art that captures the unseen, and personally I find it beautiful.” 

“You would describe it like that, wouldn’t you, Nara-san,” Kanatoko teased while getting up and using a quick drying technique on her hair, “I guess, if you think of it a certain way, your clan techniques are sort of like suibokuga.” 

“Not really. The Nara clan techniques don’t have anything to do with art.” 

“I know that!” She rolled her eyes, “But the way you can move your shadow, it looks a little artistic. My point is, the Kurama clan gets to be more colorful than you, and you’ll see me painting interesting, colorful art before boring old suibokuga any day. Now let’s go, I wanna finally get this guy before I have to paint us to look like clowns again.” 

It was the most fun Ikoma had ever had talking with anyone who wasn’t his brother or his late genin team. 

Evidently Kanatoko felt similarly, as after their mission had been completed and their targets sequestered off to T&I she had dragged him, muddy swamp covered uniform and lingering burning smell and all, to her apartment, where they spent the night definitively _not_ catching up on all the sleep they’d missed during the mission. 

Their relationship continued along that vein for some time. They ran missions (both separately and together), talked about books, and slept with each other. It was casual. Just a couple of eighteen year olds having fun. Nobody even knew they were sleeping together, as neither really had many other living friends and neither wanted to get their families involved in something that wasn’t serious. 

He didn’t even tell Shikaku he’d made a new friend, as he’d be sure to see right through the pretense and bug him about it. Just this once, Ikoma wanted someone in his life that wasn’t also connected to his older brother. For a while, anyway. Shikaku was already eyeing him with curiosity every time he came home late, so he’d figure it out eventually. But, for the time being, he had Kanatoko and their easy, uncomplicated friendship all to himself.

Until eventually their relationship stopped being one of friends-with-benefits and grew to become something more. Ikoma wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened, but he realized one day, shortly after his nineteenth birthday, while in the middle of discussing the use of _in media res_ as a brilliant or lazy writing choice in Fukuzawa Yukichi’s latest novel, that he was in love. 

Actually telling Kanatoko this was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of his life. He didn’t want to somehow ruin what they had, because Kanatoko made him happier than he had ever been. Then one night, while they were hanging out in her apartment, drinking a bit too much beer and laughing while reading excerpts of Jiraya of the Sanin’s latest pornographic monstrosity to each other he found the courage to blurt out how he felt. 

She had laughed in response, which made Ikoma’s stomach drop, but then she cradled his face with both hands, face flushed with both alcohol and emotion stating “If you think I can listen to you discuss in depth the various ways how _The Lily and the Sea_ used flowers as a metaphor for violence and _not_ fall in love then you really are an idiot.” 

She kissed him then, and even if it wasn’t the first, fifth, or even fiftieth time it somehow felt like a beginning. 

The days following his confession had been spent in delirious bliss. The pair made plans for telling their respective families. Of the dinners and introductions that would then follow. They would go out on official dates, after that. Not just reading books and then _not_ reading books in Kanatoko’s apartment or having a friendly coffee together. Then two things happened almost simultaneously; Shikaku was disowned and Kanatoko found out she was pregnant. And all their plans were ruined. 

Kanatoko was one of a few Kurama to have a rare chakra condition called Chakra Destabilization. This condition meant that any molded or directed chakra applied to her would become unstable and break apart much more quickly than normal. This had some significant advantages in the field; genjutsu and chakra techniques like the Hyuga clan’s Jyuuken were almost entirely ineffective on her. But it also meant that unlike others, even her own molded chakra would break apart eventually. So jutsu that were permanent on others, such as Tsunade’s Menstrual Block, would have to be reapplied on a monthly basis. 

His girlfriend was in tears as she explained this all to a frozen Ikoma, who had yet to so much as blink since hearing the news. “I promise I had no idea,” she pleaded between deep breaths “but- but apparently the jutsu isn’t effective the first day it’s applied, so-so even though I kept track and I was careful, and I promise I was careful, I- I’m pregnant anyway.” 

Ikoma’s shock made him unable to respond. “Please, Ikoma I promise I didn’t do this on purpose, I’m not- I’m not my mother. _Please_. I’m not- I didn’t! I don’t want to trap you. I swear. If- if you don’t want to acknowledge this kid, or-or you don’t want them to be your heir. Or if your clan will be mad I promise that’s fine but _please,”_ she was fully sobbing now, curled in on herself and not looking at him, “I don’t wanna lose you! You’re the best thing to ever happen to me but I also don’t want to lose this baby. I can’t- _Please don’t make me choose._ I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined everything but I-” 

Ikoma finally snapped out of his shock to move, collecting her sobbing form in his arms and smoothing at her hair. Kanatoko wailed, any ability to speak gone as she cried into his chest. “You haven’t ruined anything Kanatoko,” he promised as he gently guided them to the couch “I believe you. I know you didn’t do this on purpose. I’m not going anywhere. I love you too.” 

They sat on the couch for a while, Kanatoko’s sobs quieting as Ikoma continued whispering calming platitudes into her hair. Finally, after he had time to really process what was happening and his girlfriend was no longer crying, he spoke again. “I’m going to acknowledge this kid as my own, and make them my heir. The clan probably won’t be happy. They won’t believe you and will accuse you of running a honeypot on me,” Kanatoko’s breath hitched again, “But we’re going to come up with a plan. Nara are good at planning, and you’re no slouch either, even if you always seem to think you can stay up all night reading and be fine for your 6 o’clock shift“

Kanatoko gave a hiccupy laugh at that. He placed his arms around her stomach and gave her hair a kiss, “They’ll have no choice but to accept you- to accept _both_ of you. I love you so much, Kanatoko. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you stay with me for as long as you want to.”

“I love you too, Ikoma. Thank you,” his girlfriend was silent for a few minutes, regaining her composure, before continuing, “I’ve got to say, you’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would. When I saw those two little lines on the stick I don’t think I moved for another hour. Have you just always wanted kids or something?” 

Ikoma let out a small laugh that sounded a bit manic to his ears, “Ahh, no. I’ve never even thought about it. Having kids was always Shikaku’s job.” he paused to reflect on his current emotional state, “I’m just still in shock, I think. Tomorrow it’s probably going to be your turn to comfort me through _my_ nervous breakdown.”

Kanatoko snorted, then moved so she was sitting next to him, their thighs pressed together, “I’ll do my best. I don’t think I’m exactly emotionally stable myself, just yet.” 

Ikoma moved to intertwine their fingers. “I don’t think either of us are expected to be, considering. We’ll just have to get through this together.”

He squeezed her hand in emphasis. Kanatoko sighed, then moved to rest her head on his shoulder. The couple were silent for the rest of the night, both of them too overwhelmed from the news and their emotions to talk much more.

After a week and multiple emotional breakdowns from the pair had passed, they were finally ready to move forward. They were in her apartment, as usual, when Kanatoko sat up straight, looked him in the eyes, and said, “Well, you were right that first day, when you said we’re going to need some kind of plan. We need one as soon as possible, if we want to come up with some way to make our clans not angry at us. What are you thinking?” 

Ikoma closed his eyes to order his thoughts. “Well, our clans are going to be mad at us no matter what. Mine especially, considering how angry they are over my brother. But my father will have no choice but to accept you, because I’m the only heir he’s got, unless he wants Shikaku back. And I don’t think the Kurama would mind having strong links to the future head of the Nara clan.” 

“So the real problem is going to be the baby, which we already figured.” she concluded.

He sighed. “Yes. Even if both clans will accept us, it’s highly likely the Nara would have you give the child up, or at least disown them and leave them with your clan. We need to stop that from happening. The best thing to do would be to make sure they can’t keep this secret, but I’m not quite sure how to go about that. Neither of us really have anyone we could tell outside our clans.”

“Well,” Kanatoko began slowly, “The Nara clan head has a bunch of political enemies, right? If one of them were to find out about me, then they wouldn’t allow the child to be swept under the rug, and so any decisions the Nara make would have to be done publicly. With all the scandal surrounding the clan right now, they’re not going to want another, so your dad will likely be forced into accepting us.” 

“That’s brilliant,” Ikoma praised, “It won’t be exactly as cut and dry as that, but making the child not a secret goes a long way in helping us achieve our goal. The only thing is,” he slumped down on the couch, “I don’t know the best way to do that. It’s not like I can just walk on over to Haruki Hyuga and say ‘Hey, I have a girlfriend who’s pregnant with my bastard child, have a good day!”

Kanatoko snorted. “Yeah, I think you’ll have to be classier than that.” 

He groaned “I’m so terrible at politics. And talking to people. What we need is someone who isn’t terrible at them. Someone who we can trust to be on our side, no matter what. Who can help make this plan airtight, because there are still a bunch of things I’m not sure about. We need-” 

“-Shikaku.” The two of them nodded in unison, then drew their heads together to further plan.

* * *

And so it was their plans that lead him to this spot, losing horribly to his brother in a game of Go as he worked up the nerve to tell him what was going on. Shikaku himself wasn’t prying for information about his ‘mysterious girlfriend’ so he had likely worked out that Ikoma was working himself up to talk about her. His older brother always took the patient approach him, as he knew Ikoma would get around to telling him what was on his mind eventually, which was something he was grateful for. 

Something he wasn’t grateful for was his brother’s trap making his stones in the left corner unsalvageable. He’d have to hope the win-condition he’d set up on the right would work better. Honestly, Ikoma was better matched at go than shoji, he should be playing better than this. It was just ever since he had learned about the baby, they and Kanatoko were always somehow on his mind.

His mind just constantly went from being worried about them, to worrying about the elders, to thinking of more mundane things. Would the child have his mother's black hair or his own dark brown? Or maybe they would have some genetic throwback and the hair would be completely different. After all, the Kurama clan had a lot of variety in their appearances. Would it be a boy or a girl looking up at him with genetically probable dark eyes? 

And, speaking of, what were they even going to name the child? They would have to have a ‘Shika’ name, that much was given, but what? None of their favorite authors or artists had names that started with Shika. Maybe he should just choose something simple, like Shikamaru for a boy and Shikako for a girl? No. That was far too boring, Kanatoko would never agree to it. Besides, those were names his brother would come up with, not him. Shikanidaime perhaps? Yes, that had potential. Kanatoko would love it, and it was unisex besides, so he wouldn’t have to think of anything else. 

It was funny, how he was so willing to think of a name for his child when he had been putting off his own impending name change for weeks.

Shikaku placed his next white stone on the right. Yose. Ikoma cursed, there was no coming back from this. He had to stop thinking about his future child or he’d never win at go again. “I resign.” 

Shikaku nodded in acknowledgement. “It was a good game. Though it would have been better if you weren’t so distracted. Do you want to talk about what’s going on before our next round, or do you want to start playing first?”

He should just say it and get it over with. He knew Shikaku would support him. If there was one person Ikoma could count on to always have his back, it was his brother. So why was this so hard? Steeling himself, he glanced out the window, took a deep breath, opened his mouth- 

And his eyes caught sight of the messenger hawk before he could say anything. 

Ikoma closed his mouth and sighed. Sometimes the Hokage had the worst timing imaginable. “Unfortunately,” He gestured out the window, “I’ve been given a mission to report for, so one game is all I have time for today. I promise when I get back I’ll tell you everything. I want you to know before I tell Dad and the clan elders.”

Shiaku looked at the hawk and frowned, obviously wondering what mission would require the Hokage to call for him personally. But Shikaku was a jounin and in ANBU, he knew better than to pry. “Alright, I’m looking forward to it. You’ve got me curious now. Good luck on your mission.” 

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.” 

* * *

Going to the Hokage tower to report gave Ikoma plenty of time to clear his mind and re-orient himself in preparation for his mission. It was something he’d gotten used to in the past weeks. Because it wasn’t enough for his personal life to be thrown into chaos; his current mission was also serious, and of the utmost importance. 

There was a traitor high in Konoha’s ranks, and Ikoma was going to find them.

He had noticed little things at first. Supplies and provisions going missing, and numbers reported incorrectly. Then, as he followed the paper trail he started noticing more. Certain missions gone wrong when they shouldn’t. Intel not going through proper channels. ANBU going missing when they shouldn’t have. A decline in children with potential from orphanages entering the academy. When he looked at them separately it didn’t seem too dangerous, but when he linked the facts together it painted a dire picture. 

Connecting the pieces of information together was a hard task, but Ikoma wasn’t a Nara for nothing. His finished analysis of the data at hand had worried the Hokage greatly. He had ordered him to keep his knowledge to himself, and that he would send for them when he was needed to pursue more leads. Which, apparently, was now.

Someone was already in the Hokage’s office by the time Ikoma got there. He did a subtle double take as he took in the bandaged form of Elder Councilman Danzou, a severe look on his face. As soon as Ikoma stood at attention the Hokage activated the privacy seals and spoke “Welcome, Ikoma. I’ll get right to the point. After going over your research I’ve found troubling confirmation to many of your conclusions. I asked my trusted advisor, Danzou to look into things further, and today we’ll-” 

Another seal in the corner of the room began flashing, and the Hokage cut himself off. “Excuse me, this is too important to ignore. I’ll be back shortly.” 

The man hurried out of the room, the ANBU on security detail following him, and the two were left in the office to wait. After five minutes of an increasingly awkward silence Danzou spoke. “You must have been very busy these past few weeks, with this mission on top of your new position as clan heir.” 

“Yeah, it’s been pretty busy,” Ikoma said, relaxing his shoulders, “with the new clan duties on top of other things.” 

Ikoma knew enough about Danzou to know the man loved gossip too much not to pry. He was right. “Other things? Is there something else going on in your life?”

Ikoma now had a choice to make. Danzou Shimura was one of his father’s biggest political opponents. They were always at odds with each other. He was certainly a person he and Kanatoko were considering telling the secret to. He had wanted to wait for Shikaku’s advice on how to handle this, but now, well, Danzou was right here, in the room. How likely was it that such a perfect opportunity would present itself again? 

Steeling himself, Ikoma answered “Well you see, there’s this girl, Kanatoko Kurama, and we’ve been dating for months now-” Well, they’d been having sex for months now, but Danzou didn’t need specifics, ”-and we didn’t tell anyone. But Kanatoko has a rare chakra disease that runs in the Kurama clan, and it makes the Menstrual Block jutsu ineffective, and now she’s pregnant.” 

There was silence for a moment before Danzou spoke, “I see. That must have been a very unexpected complication on top of everything else.”

“Yeah, it was a big surprise, but I’m really happy. I haven’t told my father or clan yet though,” he squared his shoulders and looked Danzou firmly in the eyes, “So if you could keep this a secret until I tell them that would be great.” 

Danzou inclined his head, “I see. You’re telling me this so that when you inform your clan they won’t be able to keep it a secret. That’s a very smart move. If you are given enough time to hone your political skills, you might become a very formidable clan head. You can be assured that your secret is, for the time being, safe with me.”

God he was awful at hearing compliments. The reason he and Kanatoko worked so well together was they both used loving insults instead. “Ahh, thanks very much. I appreciate it.” 

“I also congratulate you for your upcoming progeny. I’m sure a child born with your intelligence and a Kurama’s versatility will be a great asset.”

Fortunately Ikoma was spared from having to answer by the reappearance of the Hokage, who entered the door looking harried. “I apologize for the wait. As I was saying earlier, after Danzou reviewed the information he did his own investigation. Though some of the information you gathered is fortunately explained by classified ANBU activity, Danzou found that the rest turned up some worrying results. Danzou, if you would?” 

Danzou pulled out a file, and handed it to Ikoma. “My own investigation into your discoveries has turned up what I believe to be a central location to the mole. Furthermore, evidence suggests that Cloud is likely behind most of this.” 

The Hokage gave him time to look through the files and take in the information provided before continuing, “Your S-ranked solo mission is to investigate this area, with all the stealth possible and report your findings. You know what to be on the lookout for, and It’s imperative we don’t give away to the mole that we know what’s happening, or they’ll go to ground and prevent us from rooting out the rest of the organization. You are to begin this mission as soon as you leave. Is that understood?”

Ikoma nodded. “Good, now, unless Danzou has anything else to add you are dismissed. Danzou?” 

The elder paused briefly before stating, “It’s a very good thing that you’ve brought these matters to my attention. Indeed, anyone being able to parse through all this information and come up with these conclusions should be praised for their attention to detail and desire to protect the village. Keeping things secretive was also vital, as now we can take the time to ensure the correct people are found culpable of treason.”

He paused, and lit the file Ikoma had given back on fire, before continuing ”I trust that the next actions you take will be equally vital in protecting the foundations of our village.” 

  
(Ikoma wouldn’t learn until he felt the kunai slit his throat what Danzou had really meant by that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ikoma, he just really put his trust in the wrong guy. The next two parts will be out in a couple of days, so keep an eye out!


	2. Part II- Kanatoko

The baby was crying again. It seemed all this baby could do was cry. With a sigh Kanatoko rose from her bed, taking a glance at the clock as she did so. 3:47 AM. Ugh. Well, at least she hadn’t actually been sleeping. 

With a yawn she stumbled her way to the babies crib, doing her best to ignore the way the screams made her head ache. The diaper she checked was dry; so it was food that was the problem, like always. 

Groaning, Kanatoko made her way to the kitchen, wailing infant in tow. She carefully measured out the right amounts of formula and water, then mixed them on autopilot; the past four months giving her plenty of experience with the process. She filled a bowl up with hot water from the sink, placing the bottle inside it. Once the bottle was nicely warm she tested it on her wrist. Perfect.

Her Aunt Sora had tutted over her use of formula: “Breastfeeding is the only way for new mothers to properly bond with their child. Using formula just isn’t the same!” 

Every reputable parenting book had told her this was bullshit though, and Kanatoko had long since learned to trust the wisdom found in her books over the wisdom of her elders.

Besides, breastfeeding wasn’t exactly something she could do at the moment. Before she left the kitchen she made sure to take a swig from her own bottle. 

There was a lot she couldn’t exactly do at the moment.

Ikoma’s death had hit Kanatoko very hard. She had been worried when he hadn’t come back to her apartment the day after he was supposed to talk to her brother, though the worries had been more along the lines of ‘What if his brother convinced him to leave me?’ than ‘What if he’s dead?’. 

But after another few days of nothing her concerns took a darker tone. As she made her way to the live search and capture offices to submit some paperwork she prayed to every god she knew that they would tell her Ikoma had been sent on a days long mission, or even hospitalized. 

Her prayers had gone unanswered. 

Hearing from the chunin on shift that Ikoma was dead had been like losing all the color in the world. But Kanatoko was a shinobi of Konoha, not some delicate civilian. So she nodded stoically, turned in her paperwork, and filed a notice saying she wouldn’t be available for the next couple days for medical reasons. Then she returned to her apartment, locked the door, and cried for two days straight. 

But that was the only mourning time she could give herself. She had something else to think about besides her grief, after all; or rather, someone. Now that all their plans had gone flying out the window, Kanatoko would have to do everything in her power to bring her and Ikoma’s child into the world. 

The elders of the Kurama clan and her remaining family members hadn’t been too upset when she went to them the next morning to inform them of her pregnancy, but they hadn’t been happy either. This unhappiness grew when they learned who the father was. Or, who he had been, anyway. 

“Do you have any idea how much trouble it will cause, if we have to get involved with the Nara now?” Unkai, the clan head’s brother, had asked her, angrily, “I hope you realize this is a delicate situation” 

“It’s not like it was like that when we got together,” Kanatoko snapped back, “and the pregnancy wasn’t even planned anyway.” 

“Kanatoko dear, I know that you’re very upset this boyfriend of yours has died,” her Aunt Sora had interjected with, “but he was the heir to the Nara clan. Was he really going to help you with this child? You have to know that nobody in this room would think less of you if-” 

“I’m keeping this baby,” she had sneered back before her aunt could finish, “I’m not giving up the last thing I have left of Ikoma just to make things easier for you.” 

And that had been that. The elders gave her the paperwork to file with the clan, and she was sent on her way with only a commandment that she not share who the child’s father was. Nobody wanted to create another chapter in the epic that was the Nara succession drama.

Kanatoko agreed to this stipulation easily enough. For all that Ikoma had trusted and loved Shikaku she had learned secondhand what happened when someone from a major clan could do if they thought you were running a honeypot. 

_Granted_ , she thought wryly, as the baby finished his bottle, _mother actually_ had _been trying to honeypot my sperm donor_. Said man had been furious with her mother, and darkly told her that if she stepped foot on Uchiha clan grounds again he would have her ruined. 

He hadn’t even been connected to the main line, let alone the fact that she hadn’t been conceived right in the middle of dicy succession issues. No, it was definitely for the best that the Nara were unaware of her child. 

It was fortunate for her, growing up, that the Uchiha clan as a whole were unaware of her mother’s indiscretions. All she had to contend with growing up was the Kurama clan’s snide comments and her mother’s drunken ranting, not the justified vitriol that would be sure to come from the Uchiha.

As it was, she still had an ingrained habit of avoiding the Uchiha if she could, even when she had never awoken any sharingan, in case they would take one look at her and still just _know_ somehow. It was a thought that had terrified her, as a child. The baby might one day have to take the same sort of care around the Nara, they were smart enough to figure things out.

* * *

Kanatoko was in the middle of feeding the baby now. He was a quick eater, at least. She’d be worried he wasn’t getting enough if she hadn’t extensively checked and referenced her parenting books, and the doctor hadn’t assured her he was completely healthy. It was boring, feeding him. She didn’t even need to hold the bottle anymore, which was something of a relief. 

She’d be even more relieved when she didn’t have to burp him anymore. That was always tiresome. Making sure to remember the rag this time, Kanatoko moved the baby to her chest, patting at his back. The noises he made during this part were never pleasant. 

Once that was finished Kanatoko finally made to put him back in the crib. Only for him to burst into tears again the moment his back hit the mattress. She really couldn’t catch a break, could she? Picking him up, she began rocking him until the tears started to subside. At least he didn’t need her to sing. Once he was finally asleep she laid him down again, wincing when he began to whimper. But instead of waking he continued to sleep. Thank Goodness.

Ordeal finally over with, she made her way back under her covers, and looked at the clock. 4:19. Ugh. She had maybe three hours before the screaming would start up again. No way she could get to sleep now. Maybe she should just get up and shower? Do the dishes? But just the thought of doing either exhausted her more.

How was the person she was now the same person who could once read through the night with Ikoma by her side and spend the next morning doing a shift in intel like nothing was wrong? It was like all she was now was tired. 

She was such a mess. It was pathetic. 

She had been better, during her pregnancy. Sad and scared, obviously, but nothing like she felt now. It was as though having the child had drained all the life out of her. All she seemed to do anymore was cry, worry, drink, and feel bad about herself. And then there was the baby. 

Kanatoko knew from firsthand experience that not all mothers bonded with their children. Her own childhood had been spent with her mother drunkenly telling her that she was a mistake who shouldn’t have been born as often as possible. But her own child was supposed to be different. He had been unexpected, yes, but not unwelcome. Once he was born, however, it was like whatever magical moment that bonded a mother to her child just… never happened. 

She cared for him, of course. She made sure the child was fed, dry, and clean. But emotionally, she just couldn’t form an attachment. She couldn’t even bare to think of his name, most days. She was a terrible parent. Ikoma would be so disappointed in her, for dooming his child to the same sad existence she had, growing up. 

She really was the worst, and she knew she needed help. That she should just go to the other members of the clan and ask them to watch the child for a while while she took the time to clean up, and maybe get some time to get her head on straight. But if she did that then she wouldn’t be able to handle their judging eyes.

She was pretty sure they all thought she was an awful mother already. Best not make it worse.

Kanatoko’s self-deprecating thoughts lulled her into an uneasy rest. Until the screaming started again. She looked at the clock. 7:53. Ugh. 

She was in the process of burping the baby when her Aunt Sora knocked on the door with her weekly delivery of groceries. For all her Aunt’s nosey advice, Kanatoko was grateful to her for helping. She’d go crazier than she already was if not for her aunt’s help. She just... wasn’t fond of all the talking. 

“How are you two doing today, Kanatoko? You look great!” Her aunt inquired as she went about making breakfast. 

Her hair was an oily mess and she hadn’t showered in eight days. She’d been in the same clothes for three and she was pretty sure there was spit up on them. Last night she’d gotten a grand total of four hours of sleep, and she was pretty sure the bags under her eyes had bags, at this point. She looked like shit.

“I’m doing well, Auntie. The baby as well, though he got me up pretty early today. Thank you for the groceries, and breakfast.” 

“Think nothing of it. I know how exhausting motherhood can be. You just let me know if you need anything else.” 

“Of course, Auntie.” She would ask for more help when she was dead. Her aunt was already doing too much. 

Her Aunt prattled on for the rest of breakfast, allowing Kanatoko to respond with monosyllabic answers, or even just with the occasional ‘hmmm’. 

It was exhausting. 

Then, when breakfast was done and Kanatoko was washing up the dishes while pretending like her aunt wasn’t judging her for the massive pile that had gone unwashed since her last visit, Aunt Sora made herself even more exhausting. “You know dear, now that the baby is getting older you might want to start thinking about what kind of job you’ll be taking. The single-parent clan stipend only goes so far, you know. I’m on very good terms with Makoto, the owner of the grocery store down the block. I’m sure if I put in a word he’d take you on as a cashier part-time” 

It was funny, every time Kanatoko thought her aunt had reached her limit, she somehow exceeded it. “I already have a job, Aunt Sora. I’m almost back to mission ready status, and the Live-Capture squad and Intel will both be more than happy to welcome me back when I’m ready.” 

“You’re planning on continuing being a kunoichi? That’s — Well, are sure that’s the best idea?”

‘What’s that supposed to mean?” Kanatoko interjected, perhaps a bit harsher than intended. 

“It’s just, well, not very proper, is it? When I had Ransou I quit the shinobi life right away. Now, I know that your mother-”

“My mother has nothing to do with this!” Kanatoko interjected, “Don’t compare my choices with hers! Plenty of kunoichi are single parents, anyway. I don’t remember anyone telling Tsume Inuzuka to not work on account of _her_ bastard child.”

Aunt Sora but her hand on her chest, looking hurt. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that, Kanatoko! Stop putting words in my mouth! All I was going to say was that you and Shinonome never had the closest of relationships, and I think the fact that she was still working is why.” 

“Yes, and the fact that she constantly told me I was a worthless mistake who shouldn’t have been born had nothing to do with it, I’m sure. It was her job that was wrong.” Kanatoko said with as much sarcasm as possible. 

“All I’m doing is trying to help you, Kanatoko! Sometimes you make that very hard, you know.” 

Kanatoko sighed. “I know, Auntie. I really do appreciate all you’ve done for me. I’ll think about what you said.” She would think about it for about two seconds, maybe. But her aunt didn’t need to know that. 

The two made stilted conversation as she cleaned the rest of the dishes, then waved a farewell as she walked out the door with a “I’ll be sure to talk to Makoto for you, dear!” 

Kanatoko groaned and put her head in her hands. All she wanted to do was lie back down and sleep. But she couldn’t do that, because it was Park Day. 

Every parenting book Kanatoko had read had emphasized the importance of taking a child outside to get fresh air. It would build the immune system, provide new and novel stimuli, and encourage a natural curiosity about the world. All essential for a future Shinobi. So, every week, she made a point of taking the baby out for a walk, plopping them both down on a blanket in the park by her apartment in the middle of clan grounds, and having a picnic outside. 

It was always the worst time of her entire week, even more so than Aunt Sora’s visits. 

It always felt as though every eye was locked on her as she made her way down to the park. Logically she knew it wasn’t the case, but she couldn't help but wonder if every whisper, every laugh, every conversation was about her. 

_Look at Kanatoko,_ those eyes seemed to say, _She really doesn’t know how to be a parent. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with her. Tried to trap a man with her pregnancy and now look where she is. I bet she’s a drunk, too._

It had been even worse back in February, when the only thing anyone seemed to be talking about was Yoshino Nara’s latest news. Other people of the clan had actually come up to talk with her about that. It seemed as though the father of the baby had become as much of an open secret amongst her clan as her own father was. 

“Did you hear, Kanatoko?” Makigumo Kurama, her second cousin, had asked as she watched her own child, who was three, roll around on the grass, “Yoshino Nara just announced her upcoming pregnancy. Twins, if you believe it! Lucky her only has to get pregnant once to pop out an heir and a spare, and then she’s set for life!” 

Makigumo, who had been riling up Kanatoko since they were both children, was obviously expecting her to react with jealousy towards this woman who had gotten the coveted position of ‘clan head’s wife’. And the thing was, Kanatoko _was_ seething with jealousy. Just, not the way people expected her to be. She just wanted to be with Ikoma, alive and happy. Not that she would ever give Makigumo the satisfaction of knowing that.

“It’s been mentioned in front of me a few times, yes.” Kanatoko replied snidely. 

“I just think it’s interesting, how _so many_ people seem to have had their sights set on a Nara husband.”

She really didn’t want to have to deal with this. “And how’s _your_ husband doing, Makigumo? Still sleeping around with that Nohara girl or has he moved on to someone different?” 

Her words had their intended effect, and Kanatoko had been left alone to stew in her thoughts. Until the next busybody came around to ruin her afternoon, anyway.

But today, as she laid down her blanket and took in the fresh spring air, not one of the usual parents had so much as glanced at her. Instead they all seemed to be in whispered conversation with each other. Had something happened? Surely her aunt would have told her if anything gossip worthy was going on. 

Their time at the park had passed by without much incident. The baby had learned to roll over; right on time, according to her parenting books. Good to know she was apparently doing _something_ right.

It wasn’t until the next day when Unkai came over unexpectedly for tea that Kanatoko had learned what had happened to send the other parents into a tizzy. Elder Danzou Shimura had come to visit the clan head, looking for recruits for his elite shinobi training program. The clan as a whole had been proud that such a powerful man would recognize the renown of the Kurama clan’s jutsu, but none who the clan head, Murokumo, had talked to had wanted to give up their children. There were so few children in the Kurama clan as it was. 

“You see, Danzou explained that after the child is inducted into the program they’re not allowed to make contact with their family, barring some very special circumstances that the Kurama clan, unfortunately, doesn’t fit.”

“I see.” Kanatoko stated as she sipped at her tea, waiting for the man to get to the point. 

It wasn’t like it was normal for anyone even remotely related to the main branch of the family to come visit the clan recluse for a bit of gossip.

“Yes. Murokumo had wondered if perhaps Yakumo would be eligible for these requirements, considering her status as clan heiress, but unfortunately this was not the case. A shame, really.”

Yakumo Kurama had been born just a few months before Kanatoko had been due. By all accounts she was a spirited, happy baby, with a troubling number of health complications. Kanatoko knew that many in the clan were hoping Uroko would fall pregnant again soon, just in case.

“I do have to enquire how your child is doing, Kanatoko,” Unkai stated as he took in her disheveled appearance, “Being considered by Danzou for his program is a great honor, you know.”

“I’m not interested.” Kanatoko had stated, cutting straight to the point. Like hell she was going to let some elder take away the only link she had to Ikoma. 

“Of course, naturally I understand. Nobody would force you to give up your child, Kanatoko. I simply felt it best to check with everyone. Thanks very much for the tea.” 

Kanatoko had expected that to be the end of it. She didn’t think much more about it. 

* * *

But then, as the months passed, Danzou just kept visiting. He wasn’t just going to take no for an answer, it seemed. 

And so, Kanatoko once again felt the eyes of the clan fall squarely on her. 

It started small, with an occasional pointed comment or subtle question. But things didn’t stay small or subtle for very long.

“Koseki saw you buying sake the other day, Kanatoko,” Iwashigumo had said one morning, two months after Danzou’s first visit, “You know, drinking around a baby is very detrimental to it’s well being. I’d have thought you would have learned that by now, considering.” 

“It’s not like I’m a drunk,” Kanatoko had snapped back, “and none of the books said anything like that, anyway.”

“You don’t look too good, Kanatoko,” Magikumo snidely informed her a month after that as she sat beside her in the park while her three year old played peek-a-boo with the baby. “I mean, it would make sense for you to be so tired when your baby was just born, but he’s gotta be sleeping through the night now, right? You’re gonna have a tough time of it when you start working again, if you’re already this exhausted.”

“I’ve had an awful sleep cycle since childhood, this isn’t anything new.” 

“Still, it must be so awful, having to be a parent when you’re this tired. How sad for the baby.” 

“We’ve been doing just fine, so far. But thanks _so much_ for your input.” 

“Can’t you just take a hint and stop being selfish?” Magikumo asked while bundling up her child and walking away, “You’re just making this harder on everybody else. Someone in this clan going to have to give up a kid, and I sure as hell won’t let it be me when nobody in this clan even cares about yours anyway!” 

It wasn’t until a week after that that things finally came to a head. It was the last Friday of June, and Aunt Sora was over delivering groceries and making breakfast as usual. It was a tense morning, as there were only about half the groceries there used to be. The clan stipend for single parents had just been cut rather drastically in the past month, and her personal funds were running low. 

Aunt Sora had just finished eating breakfast when she spoke. “You know, Danzou came visiting the clan head again, yesterday.” 

Kanatoko stayed silent. She didn’t want to talk about this. 

Aunt Sora continued on, “The thing is, Kanatoko, the elders don’t think he’s going to let up. He’s very interested in the Kurama clan’s might, after all.” 

More silence.

“It would be a very big honor to have a child of our clan accepted into an elite program, you know.” 

She did know. She just also knew that if she gave her baby up she would lose the last piece of Ikoma that she had. 

But that was selfish, wasn’t it? What kind of life was she even giving Ikoma’s child anyway? One like hers where he would be barely tolerated for the rest of his life? With a clan distant due to his mother’s mistakes and a mother distant because she was some kind of freak who couldn’t love her own child? 

The clan would be even worse with him, if someone else had to go to Danzou. They would resent him, and so would the rest of the clan children as they followed their parent’s example. He would be all alone.

Kanatoko knew that wasn’t the life Ikoma would want for his son. It wasn’t the kind of life she would wish on anyone. It really would be better if this baby was with someone else. Anyone else. She had thought it before and she knew it was true. 

It was time for her to be an actual parent for once and do what was best for this baby, not what her own selfish heart wanted. 

Aunt Sora spoke again, “You know I just want what’s best for you, Kanatoko. And I think what would be best would be for you to give this child up. You’re going to be so busy when you start running missions again. And I don’t think anyone in the clan would want to watch over the baby while you’re working. You’ve made quite a few people mad with you, you know. Giving the baby to Danzou would be best for everyone involved, I think.” 

Kanatoko nodded dumbly, and moved to do the pile of dishes, “Thank you, Aunt Sora. I’ll think about it.” 

* * *

Really, it was no surprise that when Danzou came knocking on her apartment door in the middle of July, a few weeks later, with a stack of papers in hand, she had no fight left in her. 

“Let’s take a seat, shall we, Kanatoko-san? You look rather tired.” 

Kanatoko sat, taking the child from his high-chair and into her arms as she did so. He babbled happily, and chewed at her hair. 

“Your child is very healthy looking, you must be very proud of him.” 

It was the first positive thing she had heard about the kid in months, and it was from the person who was here to try and take him away. 

“Thank you, I am.” The words felt hollow in her mouth.

“I’ll cut to the chase, shall I? You look as though you’re the type of person to appreciate that. I am here because I’ve been informed that you were thinking of enlisting your child into my Elite Shinobi Training Program. I will endeavor to explain the process to you, and reassure against any doubts you may have.” 

And for the next hour he did just that, explaining the program and how it functioned. It was a very nice sounding program. The children were to be raised with the highest possible care. They would receive the best possible equipment, and the best possible nutrition. The baby would grow up surrounded by other children the same age. They would bond and become close, like a family. It was truly more than anything Kanatoko could provide.

In what felt like a blink of an eye, Danzou was suddenly spreading the papers he had out on the table, explaining the no-contact and confidentiality contracts as he did so. Kanatoko clutched at the baby in her arms as she listened. “The children in the program, they’re all happy, right?” 

Danzou paused. “Indeed. The children are as happy as shinobi of Konoha should be. I myself can’t claim to be a friendly or approachable person, but the staff on hand and the training program itself has been carefully selected.”

Well, that was the best she could hope for, really. No shinobi would ever have a picture perfect life, but at least the baby would be happy and receive the proper training she would be too busy to give him. It was all she and Ikoma wanted for him. Gathering her resolve, Kanatoko signed the papers in front of her. She looked through the no-contact form before hesitating. “If, if at all possible, could I make a request, please?” 

Danzo looked at her. “That depends entirely on the nature of the request.” 

“Of course, just wait one moment please.” 

Kanatoko rose from the table and made her way to the dusty bookshelf. With shaking fingers she retrieved two novels from their position of honor. _No Longer Gold_ and _A Private Affair_. She made her way back to Danzou. “These books, they were my and his father’s favorites. I know I can’t see him again, and he won’t know anything about me, but could he please receive these books, when he gets older? He doesn’t have to know who they’re from, I just want him to have them.” 

He inclined his head. “That request is not unreasonable. You can entrust those books into my safekeeping.” 

With a knot in her throat Kanatoko handed over the books. Wildly, she hoped the child would like _A Private Affair_ better. With a heavy sigh and resolute eyes she picked up the pen again, and signed the remaining form. 

There. It was done now. No going back.

Danzou stood up. “Thank you very much, Kanatoko-san. I assure you that your child will grow to become a shinobi anyone would be proud of. Now, if I may?” 

Kanatoko stood on legs made of jelly and moved to hand over the child. As the man took him carefully in his arms an impossibly small hand reached up to grab her finger. Her son stared up at her with his father’s black eyes, framed angelically by soft raven locks. 

Kanatoko closed her eyes and pulled her finger away. “Your father and I loved you so much, before you were even born,” she said, opening her eyes again to look at her child for the last time. “And that’s why I’m doing this. I hope you understand, someday.” 

Danzou bowed, then left the apartment with the baby that was once her child. She watched them leave, staring after them until they had disappeared from sight. 

With a choked sob, Kanatoko closed the door and proceeded to the kitchen in a quest to get as drunk as she possibly could. 

What she had done today was for the best, she knew. Danzou was a hard man, and a bit of a dick for pressuring her clan so much. But that was just politics. At heart he was a man who cared for Konoha. All the children under his care would be cared for and loved. What awaited her son now was a much better life than what he would have had otherwise.

(Kanatoko wouldn’t learn until years later how horribly wrong she was.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee Sai! How come your backstory lets you have three clans? In case anyone's curious, Kanatoko is cousins with Pepperdoken's OC (and canon DoS character!) Uzume Uchiha, for the people who like connecting these kinds of things, lmao.


	3. Part III- Danzou

The latest asset had been seen to and taken in to Taro, the Yamanaka on hand for memory repression. It was highly unlikely for an infant to ever remember events from such a young age, but Danzou preferred his soldiers to be as unconditioned as possible when they entered the program. It made things easier. 

He normally didn’t set out to acquire new assets this young, as the work and effort that went into getting one past infancy wasn’t worth it when the potential worth of the asset was all but unknown. Especially when he had learned that natural newborn babies were so weak as to actually _require_ constant physical contact. Generally he waited until the targets were at least two in age, but this one was a special case, and he had had to act fast. 

He was looking forward to the possibilities of his latest acquisition. As soon as the needlessly interfering and therefore doomed Nara had informed him of his upcoming spawn, Danzou had seen a great opportunity. And when the infant born had been reported to be male, the odds of a success far outweighed the hassle. Pressuring the Kurama clan had been easy, and after a few more months the pathetic girl had finally given in with no protest. He had been helping her, really. No doubt she hadn’t been looking forward to raising the remains of a failed attempt at social climbing. 

Danzou was fortunate indeed, to acquire a child unknown to the village with such a good lineage. While there was nothing particularly remarkable about the girl herself, outside of an unknown father, she was from a powerful clan. And the father, especially, had been intelligent and shrewd enough to cause Danzou no small amount of trouble. 

The Kurama were a small clan but highly prized for their ability to bring their artwork alive into genjutsu. That inborn genetic leaning, combined with that of a Nara’s genetic propensity for chakra manipulation outside the body had the potential to result in something fantastic. He had been wanting a recruit to learn the art of Beast Imitation Drawing for some time, and this latest acquisition was the best chance for it. 

Not to mention that he had been trying to get his hands on a Nara for quite some time. They had such a good pedigree, wasted by the clan’s ingrained ideas of camaraderie and friendship. It was sickening, really. With careful planning this future agent would easily fall into the depersonalized state the Nara were predisposed to, where he would be an emotionless and empty vessel through which the will of the village would be carried out. 

A perfect shinobi.

Provided, of course, that his potential shone during training. There were other, older, assets with potential in this latest batch, and he had his eyes on more in the village besides. They would all be pushed until they were nicely broken; then he would know who would be best suited to serve the village. But he had a good feeling about this one. 

As he sat at his desk to work on filling out the necessary paperwork, Danzou frowned as he felt something shift in his pocket. What was- Oh. It was the ridiculous books the girl had given him. He took them out and burned them to a crisp in his hands, a wind jutsu taking care of the ash. Useless. It was no wonder the village was turning to ruin, if all the shinobi in it were preoccupied with absurd things like fiction. 

But that was why he was here. To fix the mistakes of the village and ensure that the true will of fire was carried out. He alone was the only person who seemed to understand what that was, anymore. Things would be so much easier when he became Hokage. Getting passed up for that ditzy disaster of a one-trick pony was an outrage. Hiruzen had become senile in his old age, for giving the hat to that over-emotional greenhorn. 

If Minato Namikaze had his way, likely every shinobi would become preoccupied with disgusting things like feelings and, he sneered inwardly, books.

But he was getting distracted. There would be plenty of time to think of the Yondaime and what he was going to do about him later. For now, he had a new asset report to file. 

It was a hassle to have to personally attend to every new file, but Danzou was the only one who knew every ROOT asset’s number, and had to obscure the information and prevent repetitions. The pain of some additional paperwork was well worth the anonymity and security that non-sequential, random numbers provided. It was best that no one knew the number of agents he had at hand, or how many had come before. 

As he finished filling out the beginnings of the file that would be built upon in the upcoming years, he was interrupted by Taro entering his office, new asset in tow. 

Taro bowed, “It’s done, Danzou-sama.” 

Danzou signed off on the last of his papers and looked up, “Were there any complications?” 

“It’s brain was further developed than most, and it had strong positive associations with it’s previous caretaker, but memory suppression worked as expected. All that’s needed now is the number.” 

Already his acquisition was showing evidence of the worthwhile genes granted to him by a Nara lineage. Good. “I have the number here.” 

As Danzou stood he grabbed a pot of waterproof chakra ink off his desk. Marking new assets directly ensured they wouldn’t be mislabeled or mixed up with another. It also gave their young chakra systems a chance to get used to his own Chakra Signature, which proved useful when the time came for the application of other seals, as the body was primed to integrate them faster.

Danzou pulled the infant’s arm out, and wrote his new designation onto bare skin. 

ROOT Asset #732

As Taro took #732 to the créche Danzou allowed himself a second to smile, satisfied. It was always nice, when plans worked out as expected. 

  
(Danzou would never learn that it was this plan that would lead to his downfall.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops sorry publishing this last part took so long I've been having a Time(tm) lately. Hope you enjoyed! I hope someday soon I'll continue this series so Sai can get the hugs and love he deserves and Danzou can get his ass kicked. Also, this fic (and all my fics) have blanket permission for people to write recursive fanfic on, in case it's inspired you in any way.


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